


we just let it be (prisoners of love)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Camboy Liam, Fic Exchange, M/M, Masturbation, Porn Watching, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Okay, but do you <em>want</em> to touch his dick?" Louis asks calculatingly, furrowing his brow.<br/>"Well, <em>yeah,</em> but in, like, an emotional way."</p><p>or where Zayn and Liam both have their secrets. Strangely enough, they both seem to be based around a webcam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we just let it be (prisoners of love)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transteverogers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transteverogers/gifts).



> For the camboy!au exchange and for eroticziam. 
> 
> here's the original prompt: "older!zayn and curly!liam at university... zayn /swears/ he recognizes the boy who sits in front of him at one of his lectures but it isnt until he logs onto one of his favourite sites that he realises where he knows liam from... silliness and fluff ensures when liam is assigned to work on a group project with zayn and zayn cant help but he utterly flustered and dorky and awkward around liam because "christ ive seen his dick!" "ok but do you want to touch his dick" ".... yes but in an emotional way" (bonus points if those dialogue lines are used)"
> 
> Hope I did it justice! It's not as cute and fluffy as I would've liked. Or as smutty. But it does meet the length requirement and there is some masturbation, so I figure it all equals out. I hope. 
> 
> If you're unhappy with it, I'd be glad to write a second piece where they fuck or smth! :)
> 
> Title from 'Crash' by You Me At Six.

Zayn’s always had the belief that things happen for a reason. He’s not sure where it stems from—his mother’s a devout believer in God and all that bullshit—, but it’s a big factor in his life. He makes his choices based on the idea that the events that are supposed to happen will if he makes his choices correctly.

It's that that probably landed him in Professor Harden’s philosophy class on an early Thursday morning.

He’d been taking classes at the University of London for over a year by then, hating it, but loving the freedom. His mother had never been the biggest fan of his ‘things happen on their own’ attitude, so he’d been forced into churches and schools and sports that he loathed.

He loves her, but not her ideals.

Zayn stares up at the whiteboard, trying to focus on the professor when the door opens and a boy shuffles in, papers falling to the floor as he wrestles through them.

“Hi,” he says and he’s got a lovely voice.

He’s also hot as fuck, but that’s neither here nor there because Zayn thinks he’s seen him before. Not in school, definitely, but somewhere.

“Um...I’m Liam? Liam Payne. I switched from your Tuesday class.” He doesn’t flush or give any sign of embarrassment except for his apologetic smile.

And, well, it’s a beautiful one.

“Take a seat,” she says calculatingly.

She mustn’t have been informed of a transfer kid. It happens more often than it should.

Liam Payne nods at her calmly and gathers his papers off the floor before sitting down in the row of seats right in front of Zayn. Zayn’s glad, for once, because he has to figure out how he knows this Liam guy.

It might actually get him laid if he remembers.

Zayn stares at the back of Liam’s head and sighs when he can’t recall where he’d seen him.

He’ll just have to ask.

-

“Okay, class, your next assignment will be due in two weeks. It must be emailed to me or dropped in my mailbox by next Sunday at midnight, and no, this doesn’t mean technically Monday. It means the minute after 11:59 on Saturday night.” Professor Harden says when the class has only a few minutes left.

She’s a bit strict and strange, but Zayn likes the class enough to ignore her eccentricity.

“You’ll be assigned a partner by me and then you’ll have to choose one of the Big Three,” Zayn’s already got this in the fucking bag.

He’d studied the Big Three for hours when he forgot the test had been moved from today to next week.

He’ll probably choose Plato, because he knows the most about him and because he was supposedly buff as fuck. Or maybe Socrates because he was blunt and didn’t spend too much of his time writing books.

“And create a twenty-slide project on them and their accomplishments and works. You and your partner will present it to the class and will be graded on your stage presentation, your speech patterns, the length of your speech, and the integrity of your work. Keep in mind the class rule: speeches must be longer than fifteen, but shorter than twenty-five.” She then cracks a smile and waves them off. “See the partner list tacked to the wall.”

Zayn rushes forward, brushing past the stranger that Zayn thinks he knows, and looks for his name on the list.

It’s next to a blank space and the words ‘see teacher’.

Zayn sighs and shuffles toward her desk, dejected.

He’s probably the odd one out, the person who gets to do the entire fucking project on his own. He hates his life.

Professor Harden blinks at him for a few seconds before realization dawns on her face.

“Oh!” She says, startling Zayn. “Yes, your partner situation. Before the new kid, you’d have been alone, but now you’ll be working with Liam, the new student.”

So, maybe he doesn’t hate his life anymore.

“Oh, okay.” Zayn replies and then grins.

A golden opportunity. He can figure out where he knows Liam from!

“Good luck.” She says, nodding, and Zayn smiles back before chasing Liam Payne out the door.

-

“So, like, what’s for dinner?” Louis asks Zayn as soon as he enters their dorm room.

Zayn rolls his eyes at his best-friend, sighing.

“It’s barely noon!” Zayn says, aghast. “In fact, why are you even _awake_?”

Louis takes night classes, so he usually sleeps all fucking day. It's hell for Zayn because Louis is up all fucking night singing and screaming and downing cups of tea and shots of Red Bull. 

“I had a paper to write and it’s my dinner time, so get cooking.” Louis snaps from his bed, laptop poised carelessly between his legs.

Zayn shakes his head and scoffs. He’s not Louis’ personal chef. He’s not even his _own_ personal chef.

He tosses his books onto the desk and flops down onto his bed.

He doesn't say anything for a while, just blinks at the plain whiteness of his ceiling and listens to Louis' grunts of frustration. 

“There’s this new boy in my Philosophy class.” Zayn says once he can't hold it in any longer, staring up at the ceiling.

He’s got an hour until he has to meet Mr. Payne at the cafe around the corner to discuss the Big Three philosophers. He's not sure if the flutters in his chest mean he's excited or that he dreads going. 

“Is he hot?” Louis asks, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he sips from a can of Red Bull.

Night classes have their cons, Zayn supposes.

“Well, yeah.” Zayn shrugs. “But I think I’ve seen him somewhere before, you know? And I can’t remember where.”

“I hate when that happens.” Louis amends. “It’s a fucking pain. Want a grilled cheese?”

“We’re doing a group project together and I’d love one.”

“Good.” Louis smirks. “Make me one, too, will you?”

-

When Zayn arrives home from his study date with Liam Payne, he’s no less confused.

He doesn’t recognize his voice. Mostly, just his face and his arms and stuff. He's frustrated with his brain. Specifically the Fusiform Gyrus. 

Zayn flops down onto his bed, opening his laptop to check over the first slide he and Liam had put together.

It looks nice enough and Zayn only fixes the position of their names before he saves it and sends the draft to Liam’s email like he'd said he would.

He opens up Google and then murmurs, “fuck it,” because he’s not ready to sleep and he’s a horny twenty one-year old. He opens up his favourite porn website—they have camboys and everything Zayn denies that he loves—and clicks on a link that opens up a video with a boy with wild, curly hair and pink lace.

At first, his face is only partially seen, the jut of his chin as he strokes down his cock, the corner of his cheekbone as he reaches back to finger himself open. But it’s when he stretches to give the camera the view of his pretty ass that his entire familiar face drops into view.

He’s gorgeous and beautiful, but he’s also Liam fucking Payne.

Zayn isn’t exactly as horrified as one might think, but he is a little put off. Liam Payne is a camboy who fucks himself for money. Brilliant.

He can’t believe it. He seemed so wholesome and timid.

Zayn's judge of character must not be as good as he thinks it is.

He doesn’t turn the video off, though, which is quite disgusting, but he’s watched too much of it to go back.

Liam’s thin fingers reach up to pinch his nipples and the sounds he makes are just plain sinful. Zayn’s cock throbs and he looks down at it in shame before reaching a hand around himself.

He’ll never be able to look at Liam’s puppy dog face in the same way again.

Liam looks so fucked out as he languidly slides his hand up and down his dick, thumbing at the head, and Zayn is so fucked.

Liam tosses his head back, moaning so loud that it fills the room with pornogrpahic noise, and all Zayn can focus on are his lips, red and bitten, and then the image of them wrapped around his cock as he strokes himself in time with the naked boy on the screen, panting even though he’s just barely begun to touch himself.

He moans when he finds a good rhythm, matching his strokes to Liam’s, and tosses his head back in ecstasy, eyes half-lidded so he can watch the shaggy-haired boy get off in time with him.

Zayn’s fingers slide up and down his length skillfully, flicking his wrist and then biting down on his lip to suppress his moans.

He does _not_ want the girls in the dorm next door to know he’s getting off to a video of his Philosophy partner masturbating.  It'd be plain out embarrassing.

Liam moans, fingers stroking faster and faster, and then comes on his legs, panting heavily as he finishes.

Zayn doesn’t hold out much longer before he’s spilling over his fist. He strokes himself through it before collapsing back on his bed, spent.

A moment later, he sits back up, shameful, as his cheeks flush pink.

“Fuck me,” he curses, whispering.

He just masturbated to his Philosophy partner and he’s apparently done it before.

-

Zayn hides his shame in a shower and a nap.

Louis wakes him up when he returns from his night class, looking awake.

“Down another Red Bull?” Zayn asks groggily, staring up at Louis with bleary eyes.

“Espresso, actually.” Louis admits. “Let’s go get breakfast! The all night diner’s open.”

“I’m tired.” Zayn admits.

“I don’t give a shit.” Louis responds, yanking on Zayn’s legs until he’s half off the bed. “Put on some joggers and get your ass out of bed.”

Zayn is sort of scared of crazy, Red-Bull and espresso Louis, so he does as he’s commanded and rubs the sleep out of his eyes as they walk the two blocks to the diner at three in the fucking morning.

Zayn’s a bit chilly, so he whines until Louis hands over his fuzzy coat with a glare.

Zayn shrugs it on happily, shoving his hands into the pockets. He bumps his hip into Louis’ grinning, and Louis pushes him back, laughing when Zayn stumbles.

They’re good like that.

Zayn pushes open the door to the diner and breathes in deep as the bells jingle above the door. Three AM is when they begin baking the bread for the day and it smells _fantastic_.

“At the window.” Louis commands and Zayn follows through, sliding into one side of the booth gracelessly.

He’s still very much half-asleep. Cons of daytime schooling, Zayn supposes.

“I’ll be with you in a sec!” Someone shouts from the kitchen and Zayn nods to himself, freeing himself of Louis’ coat.

“How was school?” Zayn asks politely, like the parent he is.

“Fucking boring.” Louis replies sharply. “Matthis marked me down a letter grade because I used Times New Roman instead of Arial, which is total bullshit because we’re _supposed_ to use Times New  fuckingRoman.”

“I hate Matthis,” Zayn mutters.

Mathis is an asshat. He has no respect for the rules of the world or the rules of literature.

“Times New Roman is the universal school paper font.” Zayn says with a scoff. “What a prick.”

It’s a few seconds later that someone interrupts their conversation to ask them their orders.

Zayn looks up and pales. Standing in front of his is Liam Payne, lips curled up in an innocent smile.

All Zayn can think about, though, is Liam’s mouth open as he moans as he comes, his fingers pressed deep inside himself.

He’s repulsed by the twitch his cock gives at the memory.

“Hi,” Liam says. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Innit?” Zayn says after he swallows harshly.

He feels like his chest is collapsing in upon itself, like his lungs are flattening and his heart is being drained of its blood. None of those things are happening, though, so Zayn's stuck in a delicious all night diner with Liam Payne smiling down at him and he's just _fucked_. 

“I’m Liam, your waiter. What can I get you?” He pulls out a sketchpad and pencil, beginning to get ready to jot down their orders.

“I’ll have the pancakes, mate.” Louis says, eyeing Zayn weirdly when he doesn’t say anything. “Oh, and a tea.”

“Great.” Liam muses happily. “And for you, Zayn?”

“I...uh...a tea? And a doughnut.” Zayn manages to squeeze out, feeling the air has been sucked out of his lungs. 

“Okie dokie. I’ll be back in a few with your drinks.” Liam smiles, dazzling, and then fucks off.

Zayn waits until Liam’s disappeared from view before he lets his forehead drop to rest on the table. He groans in embarrassment, mortified, and wishes he was dead.

“Who’s he, then?” Louis asks. “Did you fuck him and then never call him again or something?”

“No,” Zayn says pitifully. “He’s my Philosophy partner.”

“Is that _all?”_ Louis narrows his eyes and Zayn barely catches the malice in them before it’s gone and replaced with interest.

“Sorta, I guess.” Zayn sits up and shrugs.

He doesn’t know what a relationship involving one-sided porn watching is called.

Maybe a relation _shit_ because Zayn is in so much of it.

“Sort of?” Louis scoffs. “And here I am, thinking I’m your best mate.”

“Don’t do that.” Zayn sighs, frowning like a scolding parent.

“Do what?” Louis asks innocently.

Louis knows exactly what he’s doing. He guilts Zayn into spilling about shit he doesn’t want to talk about by saying he’s a terrible friend.

And the thing is, it always works because Zayn is a motherfucking sucker.

“The thing where you make me feel like a shit friend.”

“I’m not doing that.” Louis says, frowning. “I’m just saying that you don’t treat me like someone treats their best friend.”

Zayn groans, loud, and rests his head against the table again.

“ _Stop_ ,” he mumbles.

He feels like bashing his head off of the placemat in front of him. Louis is such a pain in his ass.

“No,” Louis answers impertinently. “Tell me who he is.”

“He is Liam.” Zayn snaps. “That is all.”

Zayn is not telling Louis that he masturbated to his camboy/uni student/Philosophy partner. He’s not.

-

By the next week, Zayn’s feeling the stress and also the guilt because his laptop calls his name more than he’d care to admit.

He’s with Louis again, this time it’s only midnight, and they’re in their room eating grilled cheese sandwiches Louis had forced Zayn to make, like always.

Zayn doesn't even know why he protests anymore. 

“How’s your project coming along?” Louis asks him, typing rapidly on his computer.

He’s finishing a report that’s due in only an hour or so. Night school and all.

“Decently, I guess.” Zayn shrugs. “I have trouble focusing around Liam, though.”

“Why’s that?” Louis asks, glancing up at Zayn through the clear lenses of his glasses.

He only wears them when no one but Zayn’s around. He says he’s embarrassed by them, but they remind Zayn of teenage Louis and teenage Louis is so adorable that it makes Zayn fond as _fuck_.

“He’s so pretty.” Zayn says after a moment because it’s true.

Liam is beautiful in the way that curly-haired boys with pretty eyes are. Louis’ll probably get that. He’s been there. Hell, he _is_ there. Zayn might as well tell him.

“That’s it?” Louis asks judgmentally.

“What do you mean ‘that’s it?’?” Zayn frowns. “Is Liam being pretty not _enough_?!”

“He is pretty, I’ll give you that.” Louis admits. “It’s distracting, yeah, but not so much that it’s impossible for one to focus. There’s another factor in play and I want to know what it is.”

Louis gives him his famed look, the one that says more than words ever could. This time, he’s telling Zayn he better spill or he’s fucked.

Zayn sighs, worn down, and grabs his laptop, fingers slippery with greasy cheese. He wipes them on his pajama pants and enters his password before pulling up the video of Liam in black lace, the least kinkiest so Louis doesn’t think he’s a _total_ creep.

“Look.” He says and then presses play as he turns the screen to show him.

Louis leans over and he furrows his brow in awe. Zayn hides his pink cheeks in shame as Liam's moans fill the room.

“I see why you can’t concentrate now.” Louis says dryly.

Zayn sighs in relief. Half of a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Only half, though, which leaves Liam to tell.

Zayn doesn’t think he ever will.

Zayn looks down at his hands and then exclaims, “Christ, I’ve seen his _dick!”_

“I have a question.” Louis takes off his glasses to rub at his eye. “Do you want to touch it?”

“Is that a necessary question?” Zayn narrows his eyes. “Like, _really_?”

“Zayn.” Louis stares at him, eyes so narrowed that Zayn’s almost frightened.

“No, but it’s not really a pertinent question, Louis. I find him attractive, sure, and also very distracting and I watch him wank sometimes, but is the follow up question to that usually the one you asked?!”

Zayn is _very_ good at evading Louis’ prodding questions.

“Zayn,” Louis says again, “I’ll repeat my question and this time I expect an answer.”

Zayn sighs, aggravated because Louis is too stubborn and Zayn is too stupid. _Fuck._

“Do you want to touch his dick?” Louis asks unblinkingly.

“Well,” Zayn says excruciatingly, “yeah, but in, like, an emotional way.”

“How do you touch someone’s dick in an emotional way?” Louis wonders and then snickers when Zayn tosses a pillow at him and misses. “Just go for it, mate. But be honest first. Tell him you watched him fuck himself on his fingers and then ride 'im into the sunset.”

Zayn gives him a flat look before tossing another pillow at him so it smacks into his face.

He fucking hates Louis sometimes.

-

Zayn meets up with Liam the next day at the cafe he works at. It’s warm and well-lit during the day and Zayn decides that he likes it a lot.

“I was thinking about adding an extra slide.” Liam says after they’ve ordered two teas and sat down by the window. “For, like, a credits and citations slide.”

“Yeah, I agree.” Zayn nods. “It’s an important part of the presentation and I think she’ll appreciate it.”

So Zayn gets to work filling in their resources as Liam lists them verbally.

“And the last one is ‘Philosophy for Dummies’ by Tom Morris.” Liam says softly. “Are we done?”

“Yes!” Zayn exclaims as he presses Zayn on his laptop.

Thank fuck they’ve finished. Zayn couldn’t talk about his love for Socrates for any longer or he’d have literally died.

“Hell yeah.” Liam grins. “So, tomorrow, do you want to meet at my flat to practice our presentation? I live alone, so it won’t be, like, awkward or anything.”

Liam looks so hopeful, so innocent, but all Zayn can think of is that that’s where he films his videos, where he fucks himself with then fingers that are so innocently wrapped around his mug of tea, where he records the porn that Zayn strokes his cock to.

He says yes anyway.

“Yeah, I’d love that.” Zayn smiles. “What time?”

“Oh,” Liam’s smile never falls, in fact it _grows_ , “maybe like four? We can have dinner and stuff.”

“Sounds lovely.” Zayn says and he means it.

He’ll tell Liam then. It’ll be more private and maybe less embarrassing for Liam.

“You’re on.” Zayn assures.

-

Zayn knocks on Liam Payne’s door at 3:58pm, he’s nervous and anxious and his heart is pounding out of his fucking chest.

He dreads having the words ‘I saw your camboy videos’ pour from his lips, the look of mortification Liam might wear, the embarrassment that will flush his own cheeks as Liam realizes Zayn must’ve fucking wanked to him wanking.

He scratches his arm in fear and then the door is being opened and Liam’s standing there in all of his beautiful glory, curls a tamed mess, eyes a brilliant brown. God, he’s beautiful.

No wonder he’s filming himself for money. He’s probably a millionaire.

“Zayn!” Liam croons and then he wraps Zayn in a lanky hug. “I’m glad to see you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” Zayn murmurs, hugging Liam back just as tight.

They let go at the same time and Zayn still feels warm with Liam’s heat when it's gone. He rather likes it, the feeling. He doesn’t want to forget it.

“Let’s get working. I’ve ordered pizza and it’ll be here soon.” Liam invites him in politely.

Zayn steps over the threshold of the flat and is fucking awed. It’s beautifully simple, expensively so, as well.

This is the exact house Zayn’d have if he was rich as fuck.

“I have something to tell you before we begin.” Zayn mumbles, Louis’ scowling face coming to mind.

“Alright.” Liam smiles as he leads him toward the couch. “Go ahead.”

Zayn seats himself on the edge of the couch, rubbing his cold hands together to warm them. He takes a deep breath, agony piercing through his chest as he mumbles the words.

“As you know, I am a young adult and I have no significant other. That means any... _frustrations_ I have, I must resolve myself. I do that in a lot of different ways.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt your monologue or anything,” Liam wrinkles his nose and it’s so fucking cute that Zayn wants to cry, “but is there a point?”

“Yes,” Zayn nods, cheeks flushed. “I was solving my dick issues...dickssues, if you will...and I stumbled across porn, which is ordinary in itself until I clicked on a video involving pink lace and a camboy.”

Liam’s face falls, features turning down in realization.

“And you came across me.” He finishes.

“Yes,” Zayn swallows roughly.

He feels more mortified than Liam looks. Why that is, he doesn’t know.

“Did you...get off to me?” Liam asks, looking down bashfully.

“Um... _yes_.” Zayn admits wearily.

He’d rather not get punched in the face today, but if he’s going to be honest, he’s going to do it entirely.

“Several times.” He sighs. “I couldn’t help myself. The images were too fucking beautiful.”

Zayn is a weak, weak man.

Liam doesn’t say anything for a while and Zayn can’t bring himself to look at Liam’s face, too mortified in his own sexual escapades to do so. After a few minutes, the doorbell rings and Liam gets up to answer it.

Zayn can’t believe he listened to Louis. Louis, who won’t tell the boy he’s in love with that he loves him, Louis who’s failing psychology because he defines it as a weak science—which it _isn’t_ —, Louis who watches more straight porn than gay porn because he likes analyzing the stupidity of it.

Louis is an idiot. Louis is Zayn’s idiot. Zayn, he guesses, is probably Louis’ idiot as well. Why they listen to each other is unknown to either of them.

“Pizza’s here.” Liam mumbles, placing the box onto the table.

It smells great, but Zayn’s stomach turns in repulsion, too humiliated to enjoy the camboy’s free pizza.

“I don’t mind.” Liam mumbles after a while. “I...I just figured you were into me for me, but I guess it’s because you like adding more pornographic images to your repertoire.”

“It’s not like that at _all!”_ Zayn raises his hands in protest. “I’m not like that. I...I like you for Philosophy you, okay? That’s not why…I...like you.”

“That’s not...This is me, this kid sitting in front of you. I’m reserved and quiet and good at Philosophy, but I needed to pay for school and for somewhere to live and eat.”

“I get that.” Zayn nods.

He’d have done anything to go to university. He’d have sold his soul to a crossroads’ demon like a stupid idiot on that American television show with the repeated major character deaths.

“Good.” Liam swallows hard and nods.

“So...we’re cool?” Zayn asks.

“I guess.” Liam shrugs.

Zayn nods and the weight is still on his shoulders, but he thinks it weighs a bit less than before.

“Can I make something abundantly clear?” Liam asks, reaching to put a piece of pizza on a plate.

He hands it to Zayn when he does, smiling softly. Zayn takes it with gratitude.

“Of course.” Zayn nods.

Honestly is a big part of their friendship now, Zayn decides.

“I like you.” Liam blurts out. “It’s a bit blunt and not how I’d have liked it to have gone, but it’s true.”

“Like, you _like like_ me?” Zayn cannot fight his grin.

“Well, who _wouldn’t_?” Liam murmurs and then takes a bite of his pizza. “But, yeah. We shared a few classes last year and I sorta...fonded over you with my best mate.”

“Is he a camboy, too?” Zayn asks honestly, unabashed.

He probably shouldn’t, but oh, well.

“Yes.” Liam nods, blushing. “He goes to uni with us, but he’s really connected with his pornsona.”

“Who is it, if you don't mind me asking?” Zayn asks with a curious grin. 

Two camboys in one school. What are the odds?

“Harry.” Liam admits. “He’s in one of your...maths classes, I think.”

“Styles, right?” Zayn’s eyes glimmer. “I know him! My mate’s sorta fonding over him!”

Harry’s always been a bit out there. Zayn isn’t exactly surprised.

He’s not surprised that Louis likes a camboy, either. Louis is weird.

“That’s absolutely crazy.” Liam murmurs and his grin is so pretty, so beautiful that Zayn can’t resist the urge to ask anymore.

He really really can’t. He doesn’t care about the consequences. He’s more of an in-the-present kind of guy anyway.

“Can I kiss you?” Zayn asks.

Liam is too beautiful to _not_ want to kiss.

“Very forward of you.” Liam smirks. “But, of course you can.”

Zayn doesn’t need to be told twice. He leans forward and presses his lips to Liam’s firmly.

Liam’s lips are soft, delicate, and Zayn realizes he never could’ve imagined anything like this ever. Even in his wettest dream, kissing Liam had been nothing like this.

Zayn reaches up and tangles his fingers in Liam’s sculpted mess of curls, tucking him close enough to kiss into his mouth. Liam wraps himself around Zayn, warmed into the kiss, and grins.

“You’re a great kisser,” Liam smiles, speaking against Zayn's lips.

“I could use some practice,” Zayn shrugs, grinning.

He’s an ace kisser and he knows it. But.

“I think I can help with that.” Liam bites his lip and kisses Zayn again, hands holding Zayn’s face in place as his lips fold against Zayn’s.

Zayn could kiss Liam forever and it _still_ wouldn't be long enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> did you mean it about the bonus points
> 
> Kudos and comments are immensely appreciated! x


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